


The Impossibly Dead Waitress, the Captain, and Me: Immortals

by TheGirlDeepInThought



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi, doctor who immortals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 02:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5439515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlDeepInThought/pseuds/TheGirlDeepInThought
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clara and Me have been travelling together for some time and have grown very close. On one seemingly normal day of adventures, Clara makes the suggestion that they visit a certain bar on the planet Zog. There, they run into a dashing ex-companion of the Doctor, and so our story begins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Three Immortals Walk into a Bar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello all! I'm posting for the first time on this site, just as a way for my stories to reach a wider audience. I have a profile under the same name on ff.net too. Anyways, on to the story! I hope you enjoy it.

Clara and Me burst through the space-diner doors of their TARDIS, Me with one arm slung over Clara's shoulder, laughing hysterically. The two made their way with some difficulty into the console room, as Me was partially hunched over and the force of her laughter impeded any kind of straightforward movement. Despite the ache in her stomach and the overwhelming mirth clouding her thoughts, though, Me managed a raised snap of her fingers and the TARDIS doors swung shut with a satisfying thud-click. Immediately, her hand lowered to grip the console and she braced herself against the wracking of her chest, one arm wrapped around her stomach as her abdominal muscles screamed in protest of their prolonged overuse.

She heard footsteps pattering around the metallic floor of the TARDIS and a few moments later, a gentle hand touched her shoulder. Me managed to twist her body around and looked up to see Clara, clad in her red waitress uniform (she'd had them made in several different colours as promised), standing in front of her with an oxygen mask. She tried to raise a shaking hand but Clara gave her a look that said, "Don't be stupid," slid the mask onto Me's face herself, and carefully brought the elastic band around the top of her head to secure it there so Me wouldn't have to bother holding it.

Through her heaving laughter, Me took great, gasping breaths, and slowly but surely, her belly laughs and guffaws became giggles, and the giggles became few and far between.

"Thank goodness," said Clara. "I do enjoy your laugh, but that was just disturbing." Beneath her flirtatious, teasing tone, though, there was a lingering hint of concern and a good deal of relief.

Hiccoughing slightly, Me got out a breathy, "No kidding." She kicked the console lightly as she took a moment to recover. "Not what I meant when I said I needed a laugh, Woman," she muttered.

The TARDIS wheezed in protest, but Clara could feel the amusement radiating from the vessel and chuckled softly. "Not the most creative prank ever, you know," Clara told the TARDIS. "We have laughing gas on Earth." The TARDIS whirred indignantly. "Oh, take a joke, Woman," Clara teased, patting the console soothingly. "Woman" had become Clara and Me's nickname for their TARDIS, in lieu of the Doctor's "Sexy". When they'd discussed it together, she (the TARDIS) - using Jane Austen's appearance as a voice interface, no less (that had led to an interesting conversation) - had said she liked the idea of being "just one of the girls", and so "Woman" had stuck.

Me, finally back to normal, smiled wryly and said, "I don't know, Clara; she certainly got me good. It's not her fault that you don't need to breathe."

Clara laughed. "Timelooped girl for the win," she crowed, and Me began to laugh with her but ended up groaning in pain instead. Clara's brow furrowed and she wrapped an arm lightly around her travelling companion's waist. "Do you need to rest for a bit?" she asked, concerned.

"No, I don't think so," Me replied, smiling gratefully. "It's just taking a bit longer than usual for the muscles to repair. Give me a couple more minutes and I'll be brand new." Clara snorted at that and Me's grin widened. She gave Clara a quick peck on the cheek and young woman blushed but returned the grin with her own happy smile.

"So, where to?" Clara posed, letting Me go and scurrying around the console to pull a few levers and push a few buttons. She pulled the master switch and the TARDIS dematerialized into the Vortex.

"Hmm," Me hummed absently before her eyes lit up in inspiration. "I don't know about you, but I think I want to do some dancing."

"Ooh," Clara exclaimed, "Now there's any idea!" She bit her lip and thought for a moment, and then perked up suddenly. "I think I know a place we could go. The - " pain flashed briefly on her face, but she set her shoulders determinedly and plowed through, "The Doctor once mentioned this spot called the Zaggit Zagoo bar on a planet called Zog. It sounded like really good fun, and there was definitely dancing."

"Well, after all of that, I wouldn't mind a drink," Me said with a smile.

"Let's go."

*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*

After handing a few Zagooian credits to the bouncer at the door, Clara and Me slipped hand-in-hand into the bar and took a moment to absorb their surroundings. The walls of the room were a deep, fluorescent blue and were lined here and there with red neon lights, whose rays glinted off of the glasses lined up on the shelves above the bar. One wall featured a large screen displaying lines of triangular blue and green figures of which neither Clara nor Me knew the significance, but in front of the screen was a dance floor, where a number of couples and assorted groups were partying away. Clara spotted some interesting, unfamiliar movements and made a mental note to learn some new moves while they were there.

The place was nicely busy - not packed to the point of being stifling, but still bustling with people of all kinds of different species - and upbeat jazz music floated happily through the room.

"It's perfect," said Me, and Clara smiled.

"I think so, too," she replied. "Do you want to get a drink before we join them?" She gestured towards the dance floor.

"Yes, please," Me said, and with a flourish of her free arm, motioned for Clara to lead on. They weaved their way over to the bar counter and perched themselves on metallic stools, both of them short enough that their feet dangled above the footrests. They looked over the cocktail menu together and after an enthusiastic exchange with the bartender, ordered a pair of drinks called "Helix Hearts" that reportedly took about ten minutes to make, but that he assured them would be worth the wait.

While he made their drinks, the two women chatted quietly with one another and let their eyes roam the room, recognizing some species and wondering about others. This continued for a couple of minutes until they were interrupted by a pleasant voice with a decidedly American accent.

"Well, hey there."

Clara and Me turned their heads to find the source of the greeting. Their gazes found a tall, brunette man with striking blue eyes and a charming grin who was leaning against the counter a couple of vacant seats over. Clara couldn't help her stare from raking over his body. He was wearing a military-looking, navy blue greatcoat, a baby-blue collared shirt tucked in neatly at the waist, black utilitarian trousers, and a pair of worn, lace-up work boots.

She exchanged a glance with Me, whose eyes said the exact same thing as her own: Who on Earth is that gorgeous man?

Clara looked back over at the mystery man and was met immediately by those blue eyes. His grin had taken on a bit of a smirk-like quality, and his expression was entirely knowing. Clara's breath hitched instinctively, and her cheeks flushed briefly before the timeloop reset her complexion, a fleeting tell of her chagrin for having so blatantly ogled him. Still, she didn't look away - in fact, she smiled warmly, and seeming to take that as a good sign, the beautiful stranger approached the bar stools where Me and Clara were sat.

He stopped right in front of them between the two stools, so that their backs were to the bar and they were facing the dance floor. He extended both hands, and Clara and Me each took one. The man squeezed them in a manner that was both firm and gentle and instead of letting go, opted to introduce himself.

"Captain Jack Harkness. And who might you ladies be?"


	2. Anomalies

*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*

Clara's eyes widened and Me stiffened slightly.

The captain cocked an eyebrow. "I take it you two have heard of me, then?" His tone was carefully light and flirtatious, but his eyes had narrowed almost imperceptibly and he'd dropped the two women's hands.

Clara smiled apologetically. "Yeah. Sorry, Captain; we didn't mean to put you on edge." She elbowed Me in the side gently, trying to get her to break off the intense staring match into which she and the captain had silently entered. "It's just not everyday that a girl meets one of the Doctor's companions."

Jack and Me snapped out of their contest simultaneously and turned their attentions to the young woman at that. "Clara," Me hissed in protest, her voice full of distrust and consternation.

The captain, on the other hand, was completely flabbergasted. "You know the Doctor? Sorry, but who the hell are you two?" he asked.

"Clara Oswald, Impossible Girl, companion to the Eleventh and Twelfth Doctors, although I have seen all his faces, I suppose - but that's a story for later, yeah?" Clara reeled off brightly. "This is Me, formerly known as Ashildr. She and I travel together now that the Doctor and I have ended things."

Jack looked between the two of them for a moment, utterly bemused. Clara held his gaze with a patient smile while Me glowered, as if challenging him to dispute what her companion had said.

In the tense silence, the bartender spoke up timidly from behind Me and Clara, having finished preparing their Helix Hearts and also carrying a bottle of ale that Jack had apparently ordered. The three customers startled slightly at the sound of his voice but quickly composed themselves, accepted the drinks, and laid down the appropriate number of credits on the counter-top. The bartender, having witnessed similar scenarios to the one unfolding in front of him go sour, swiftly collected the money and scampered off to the other side of the bar.

Clara and Me were momentarily distracted from the captain by their drinks; it seemed the bartender had not been exaggerating. The actual liquid part of the cocktails was not unlike a Tequila Sunrise in that from bottom to top, it transitioned through gradations of red into violet and then finally a deep, rich blue; but within each drink was the fluorescent silhouette of a cartoon heart, made from glowing, intertwined strands of red and blue licorice.

Clara was hesitant to touch her glass for fear of disturbing the potable artwork but Me had no such reservations, and so after a moment of appreciation, she took a hearty sip and made a quiet murmur of approval. She laughed at Clara's almost awestruck expression and it was her turn to nudge the other woman. "Drink up," she told Clara, her tone amused and her eyes sparkling, "Your glass isn't going to drain itself, and if you don't drink that, I will."

Clara gave another one of her fleeting blushes and in her chagrined haste took more of a gulp than a sip. Me laughed at Clara again as the latter's face lit up. "My god, that is good," she exclaimed. "I could drink a whole bucket of these!"

A chuckle brought Clara and Me out of their little world and back to the situation at hand. Jack was grinning again and the look in his eyes had softened considerably.

"I'm not sure a whole bucket would be wise," the captain warned teasingly. "Those things are stronger than they taste, and believe me: I would know. Helix Hearts have given me some great party stories - and a few that aren't suitable for polite company, too."

With that, the tension was diffused; Clara laughed and gave Jack a pleased smile and even Me relaxed an infinitesimal degree, although she did make sure to roll her eyes.

"Polite company is overrated," Clara told the captain with a wink, ignoring Me's sudden splutter, "and I for one would love to hear those stories." Jack's grin turned from warm to delightedly surprised. "But as for the cocktails," Clara went on, "the funny thing is that ... well, I actually could drink a bucket of them." Jack raised an eyebrow in polite curiosity. "I'm impossible, didn't I mention? Actually, the both of us," she gestured to herself and Me, "are a bit of an anomaly."

"So am I, come to think of it," replied the captain. "Care to share?"

"Maybe not here," Me interjected abruptly. Jack and Clara turned to look at her, the same question in their eyes. "Say, Captain," she continued with a sly smirk, "You've seen the police box. How would you like to visit an American diner?"


	3. The Question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it.

*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*

"So, let me get this straight," Jack mused, "You - " he pointed to Me - "have a Mire chip in your head that makes you, for all intents and purposes, immortal. You - " he pointed to Clara (but not without a roguish wink), "are in some kind of conscious suspended animation and in the Doctor's timeline, you've already died. And I - " he smiled sheepishly, "thanks to Rose Tyler, can't seem to die either - not that I've tried very hard to find out, but you take my point."

The three anomalous humans were sitting at a booth in the TARDIS diner, Clara sipping casually at a cup of Earl Grey, Me clasping an untouched glass of ice water between both hands, and across from them, Captain Jack nursing a tumbler of whiskey.

"That is the essence of it, yes, Captain," Me stated, her tone wry and matter-of-fact. There was a moment of silence, disturbed only by a clink of china as Clara set her cup down on its saucer and crossed her arms, sitting back to watch the inevitable confrontation between her companion and Jack.

Eventually, the captain spoke up. "You don't like me," he intuited aloud, holding Me's gaze. Clara frowned slightly and Me hummed in what sounded like disagreement.

"I don't know you," she corrected him. "And the Doctor once said you'd 'get round to me'. Frankly, that makes me nervous. The Doctor and I had a rocky relationship. Actually, that's probably a generous way of putting it." Me grimaced apologetically at Clara, who gave her a sad, little smile. The former continued, "I don't trust him. And despite the fact that we haven't come across each another before in the flesh, I have heard stories of you, Captain, and I keep tabs on them. You've been very busy, and you have some ... interesting ... methods."

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, Lady Me," Jack countered cheekily, albeit with an underlying hostility, "but, reading between the lines, I'd say that the same statement could apply to you." He sighed, took a swig from his tumbler, set it down to lace his fingers together on the table, and leaned forward slightly. All of the humour was gone from his face, replaced by fatigue and earnestness. "Look. I've done what I needed to do. To protect Earth, to protect Torchwood and my friends there. Sometimes that means being ruthless." He paused. "I'm not proud of everything I've had to do," he conceded, "and I've made mistakes, sure. But still: that's got to count for something in your book."

Me settled back into the red cushioning of the booth to contemplate the captain. She and Jack seemed to have initiated another stare-down, and after some time went by and the pair of them had yet to speak a word, Clara let out a snort and slowly began to laugh.

"Look at the two of you," she exclaimed through her giggles, "You're ridiculous! Stop your bloody posturing, already, and let's get on with things. And no, Me, I won't hear it," she said, cutting off said companion as she opened her mouth to protest. "We can trust him. I don't know much about Jack apart from what he's just told us and the couple stories the Doctor told me," she admitted, sobered, "but my gut is telling me that we can trust him.

"And besides," she added defiantly as Me still seemed unconvinced, "what is he going to do? Turn us in to the Time Council? I doubt it, Me. I don't think, as a fixed point in time, that it's in the captain's best interest to go to Gallifrey. He'd probably end up the subject of some vile experiment."

"Not a fan of the Time Lords?" the captain asked, unsettled by the derision in Clara's voice.

"Nope," she replied mock-lightly. "At least, not the High Council. And the Sisterhood of Karn can bugger off, too, as far as I'm concerned." Jack's eyebrows shot up, but Me didn't look at all surprised, just grim. "Know how I told you the Doctor saved Gallifrey and that that's where he ended up extracting me before my death?" Jack nodded. "He got there through something called a Confession Dial." Clara stopped and took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. When she exhaled, the air hissed out through her clenched teeth. "It's meant to be used to help a dying Time Lord confront and make peace with their fears and regrets before they go, but it can also be used as an interrogation chamber.

"They kept him in there for four and a half billion years, Jack," she said, and when she opened her eyes to look at him, they were gleaming with anguished, furious tears. "Alone with his demons. He had to die in agony over and over and over again to break out. All because they wanted information about a stupid prophecy."

Jack's jaw locked and his fingers curled into a dangerously vice-like grip on his glass.

"He was almost insane. It was horrible," Clara said, voice low. "And part of it was my fault, because I was the one who was a reckless idiot and got myself killed, which he of course blamed on himself. Duty of care, he said." Jack reached out a hand to clasp Clara's limp one, and she allowed him to weave their fingers together, half in a trance, remembering. "I never asked him for that. None of us do, really." Jack nodded. "But he's so damn noble."

"You loved him," Jack said, and it wasn't a question.

"Of course," Clara replied softly, clearing her throat and blinking a few times to hold off welling tears. "Still do, really. But he doesn't know me anymore, and I can't remind him. There's too much at stake. So I'm running, just like he taught me to." She smiled, and the sadness there sent a pang through the captain's chest. "And this wonderful Lady decided to come with me," she added gratefully, using her free hand to take one of Me's while the two exchanged a look that clearly spoke of love. Clara's features became slightly more cheerful.

Clara and Me stared at one another for a moment, and Clara raised an eyebrow, a question in her eyes. Me sighed, clearly resigned, and gave a curt nod. Clara's lips arranged themselves into a genuine grin and she gently leaned over and kissed her companion on the cheek. Then she turned back to the captain and smiled.

"So, Captain Jack Harkness ... care to join us?"


	4. Affirmatives and Frivolities

It took him less than a split-second to decide.

"Oh, I'm in," Jack answered Clara with a brilliant grin. "You two and a TARDIS? I am beyond in. Let's do it."

Clara beamed at him, her wide eyes alive with joy and mischief. Seeing her Impossible Girl so happy erased any niggling doubts in Me's mind.

Said woman leaned forward slightly. "Welcome aboard, Captain," murmured Me, extending a hand to him, unquestionable sincerity in her expression. Jack looked surprised at the gesture but pleased nonetheless. He shook her hand firmly and in that moment, a silent truce was called.

"Come on," said Clara, practically bouncing with giddy energy, "let's go introduce you to the Woman - that's the TARDIS," she clarified for Jack, who nodded his thanks. "We could do it here, but I feel as though the console room would be more official."

"I agree," said Me. "Off we go." Everyone shuffled out of the booth and Clara led the way through the door that read "Restroom" into the pristine, white space beyond.

"I assume you heard all that, Woman?" called Clara as the trio stepped foot in the console room, Me closing the door behind them. The TARDIS beeped cheerfully in confirmation. "Well, then. This is Captain Jack, and he's going to be travelling with us for the foreseeable future."

"Hello, ma'am," he greeted her with his usual charm, stroking a gentle hand over the edge of the console. "Captain Jack Harkness, at your service."

The TARDIS made a cooing sound and the round things blinked several times.

Me laughed, glancing around at the flickering lights. "Well, she certainly likes you, Captain," remarked the female Immortal. "Then again, she does seem to have a fondness for outrageous flirts."

"Me?" scoffed Jack, holding a hand to his chest in theatrical affront. "Never!"

"Well I know I'm not, Harkness, but you definitely are."

Clara rolled her eyes, sighing in part-amusement, part-exasperation. Jack looked at Me quizzically for a moment before understanding dawned in his eyes and he burst into uproarious laughter. His eyes glittered even as they teared up with his mirth; this woman just kept surprising him.

"So she has a sense of humour," Jack managed to get out through a handful of lingering chuckles.

"Well, of course! You don't live as long as I have without developing one, Captain," Me admonished, albeit with a wink.

"You'd better get used to it, Jack," warned Clara. "This one can be quite wicked when she wants to be. Oh - and just so you know, the 'Me' puns don't stop."

Jack smiled warmly. "Duly noted." He took a moment to soak it all in: the tangible excitement in the air, the radiant, telepathic happiness of the TARDIS, his beautiful, new-found travelling companions.

He hadn't felt this much hope in a long time.

A small hand wormed its way into his. He looked to his side, and there was Clara - lovely, lively Clara, nonexistent pulse be damned. She laced their fingers together and tugged him around the console to the main controls. "Where would you like to go, Captain?" she asked him, her hand gesturing with a flourish over the various instruments, as if offering him first pick from a delicious buffet spread. Appropriate, mused Jack, given her choice of outfit.

At Clara's invitation, Jack typed a date, time, and set of coordinates into the control panel and then tilted the screen back towards her. A broad smile adorned Clara's lips. She swung the screen around to Me, who had been watching the two of them curiously. The corners of the Lady's mouth twitched upwards and sly anticipation seeped into her eyes.

"Oh yes," she said. "That'll do perfectly."


End file.
